


A Myth I Could Create

by swedishmafiafish



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 1 (Critical Role), Campaign 1 Episode 38, Canon-Compliant, Canon-adjacent, Echoes of the Past, M/M, Minor Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Minor Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan, the bar scene, vox machina - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 16:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swedishmafiafish/pseuds/swedishmafiafish
Summary: "The flush on Keyleth’s face and the glimmer in her eyes as she laughed with their friends filled Vax’s chest simultaneously with a spreading warmth and a stricken yearning. It rendered hopeless the fling he had with Gilmore; their flirting with one another and going on dates— though they didn’t call them that— seemed to lead to a road where Keyleth wouldn’t follow."This work is a canon-compliant/canon-adjacent vignette of interactions and introspections between Vax'ildan and Shaun Gilmore. The first part is, at its base, a transcription of the bar scene from the beginning of episode 38: "Echoes of the Past," from Vax's perspective with what I hope is character-appropriate ruminations and reactions. The next part will be more theoretical.
Relationships: Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan
Kudos: 6





	A Myth I Could Create

It had been a long day, which meant Vax was tired. Between his untoward dip back into the den of the Clasp and executing one of Uriel’s closest friends for half a decade of treason and betrayal, stealing away to his own bedroom sounded rather inviting. Better, however, was his idea once all was said and done, walking away from the keep in Emon’s subtle sunset; to get out and go drinking.

Percy was the one who suggested the “pub-crawl,” and as such, he was the one who led it. His search, though, had not proven fruitful. The dives the group had ended up in were full of sad, muted energy from dead-exhausted patrons. A caustic match for Vax’s own current disposition, but not by any means what the party sought.

Once Percival stepped down from his attempted pursuit, Scanlan was able to catch wind of a speakeasy fronted by a textile operation named “Howarts.” Naturally, that sounded exactly right for their somewhat celebratory, somewhat destructive intent for the night.

The sun had been down for long hours when it dawned on Vax that their only meal since breakfast had been alcohol. Truthfully, he almost hadn’t even noticed. His mind had been too wrapped up in losing the day’s exploits to a warm and carefree haze.

“Let’s stay out all night, come on!” Keyleth suggested, causing Vax to return to the present, and Scanlan to groan. The rest of the group seemed fairly mixed.

“Come on, old man,” goaded Vax, while Keyleth shouted, “We can see the sun rise! We never do thissss. We never take time for ourselves.”

His sister, seeming only facetiously concerned, and more amused than anything, mentioned, “Oh, no, Keyleth’s been day-drinking and night-drinking.”

“I haaaaaave. Come on, you guys.”

Always eager to make Keyleth happy, Vax sidled up to the bar and slammed his hands down to get the server’s attention. “Hi! We need to keep drinking but also eating, so where’s the closest place to do that?”

The man standing behind the bar, who looked absolutely astounded by the sudden loud, drunk idiot in his face, slowly responded, “At this hour? Well, sir, at this point in the evening, food might be a little hard to procure, unfortunately.”

“Really?” complained Vex.

The man rubbed his hands together apologetically. “As far as I know.”

“Guys, there’s got to be like, some street vendors. Come on,” suggested Keyleth, starting to make for the door. It amused him that she would think people would be peddling food on the streets, considering how late it had become. His thought was cut short by his sister’s abrupt gasp.

“I just remembered 5,000 gold is being delivered to the keep.”

Scanlan chuckled and put his hand out to calm her. A chorus of “Don’t worry”s and “We have servants” filled the moment.

But the next thing he knew, a familiar voice bellowed, “Well, isn’t this the luckiest day for me!” His party threw up a round of greetings for their closest friend in the city. Shaun Gilmore was a hard man to miss.

“Look at this motherfucker right here!” Vax exclaimed, the drink in him warming his face and ears. He didn’t know and didn’t care whether other patrons were staring.

“Vax’ildan!” Came the gleeful reply. Gilmore rushed up and took Vax’s face in his hands, kissing him on one cheek, then the other, in what he could assume was a Marquesian custom. Could, at least, if he wanted. In all his revelry, he threw his arms around Gilmore and spun him, lowering him subsequently onto the nearest barstool.

Exacting a playful slap on Gilmore’s cheek, Vax grabbed Gilmore’s face. “How are you?” He enthused. “It’s so good to see you! God, you look good!” If he was making a fool of himself, he didn’t care.

“You as well, my friend! You as well.” His tone was affectionately amused.

“Gilmore!” Keyleth cut in. “Gilmore, what are you drinking? We’re buying. What are you drinking?” She sounded almost like a puppy turned into a person.

“Oh, obviously whatever she’s having.”

Without waiting for further question or conversation, Vax leaned in toward Gilmore, as if imparting a secret. “Do you have any food? They don’t have any.”

“They don’t have any— no, they would not serve food here.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a finer establishment.”

Vex’ahlia then leaned in as well, a trivial concern on her face. “Where can we go for food, Gilmore?”

Vax guessed if anyone would know, it would be Gilmore. “Um…” Gilmore paused for a second, glancing about the tavern, seemingly sorting through a mental list or considering his options. A moment later, he brought out a small piece of wood carved into the shape of a game piece. He gestured to the room before him, his gold-trimmed sleeve falling back to the elbow. “If you wouldn’t mind clearing some of these tables for me—?” At Scanlan’s suggestion, he looked to Grog. “You wouldn’t mind helping me clear some of these tables, would you?”

“Not a problem,” their Goliath bellowed. Then, turning to a nearby table of strangers; “Stand up, you lot!” used his giant hand to sweep their drinks off the table in a show of willpower. Once that was done, in a way characteristic only to Grog himself, he let out a guttural giggle. “It’s clear.”

They pushed a few tables out of the way and from that which had seemed like a carved wooden chip emerged the extravagant feast that they all knew well. And over the next two hours or so, the group swapped stories and chatter, talk of opening “Gilmore’s Glorious Books” in Whitestone being part of that.

******

Once their meal ended and the table disappeared, Vex’ahlia was getting up and abandoning her chair to slide down next to Gilmore himself. He couldn’t help but be morbidly curious what it was she would want to discuss with him. Either way, as soon as she left her seat, Keyleth moved from hers. He tried to seem like he hadn’t noticed, shouting across their newly-commandeered regular-sized bar table to Scanlan about some bullshit they wouldn’t even remember come morning, and they made for the dartboard.

He turned his partial attention back to Gilmore and Vex, and though he wasn’t the skilled lip-reader that Vex was, he could see that there was a frustration about Vex, and surprise and concern on Gilmore’s face. He glanced over at Vax, and upon realizing that Vax had been looking at him, too, he held the stare for a couple of seconds before turning back to Vex. He hoped his sister wasn’t asking Gilmore to spy on him for her, or trying to fix his problems the way she always did; by employing a tactic she knew would work on him. The annoyance he felt in remembering her tendency to do so was muted by the effects of the ale, the corners of his anger softened.

A sudden shove pulled him from his fuzzy introspection. As he whipped his head back to look beside himself, he realized the shove had come from Scanlan, pushing past him. It seemed he’d missed the whole of the game, but it didn’t particularly interest him in the first place.

“Well, it’s been a fun night guys, but I’m getting tired of letting Grog beat me at darts.”

A hearty chuckle erupted from Grog. “You really suck. I don’t know if it’s because you’re so tiny—”

“They put the dart board so high on the wall,” Scanlan whined.

“Yeah, but you put darts in, like, two peoples’ arms. I mean, are you really that—”

“Well, one of those people was giving us the stink-eye.”

“That’s true. He squealed out like a little girl, too.” The two exchanged a look of hilarity. It would have seemed strange as an outsider to see a nearly nine-foot Goliath and a two and a half-foot gnome sharing a look with one another, let alone competing at darts where the board was placed on the wall at a level just between their heights, but luckily the bar had mostly cleared out. Then, at just about the same time, the two spoke: “We should go home.”

A whine of protest came forth from Keyleth. A long, drawn-out, “Noooooo.”

“Keyleth, don’t be this way. We’ll go out again tomorrow. It’ll be fine,” offered Scanlan.

Her response was near-immediate. “You say that now,” she slurred, “and then tomorrow some crazy person will show up at our door and want us to do something crazy, and then we’ll never have a free night again!”

It was a bit melodramatic, but she wasn’t wrong. That was why they had spent their entire evening and most of their night popping from tavern to tavern, after all. 

******

Vax lazily turned his attention over to the altercation and his eyes fell upon the scene: Grog, Keyleth, and Pike taking between them eleven shots of the liquor. The flush on Keyleth’s face and the glimmer in her eyes as she laughed with their friends filled Vax’s chest simultaneously with a spreading warmth and a stricken yearning. It rendered hopeless the fling he had with Gilmore; their flirting with one another and going on dates— though they didn’t call them that— seemed to lead to a road where Keyleth wouldn’t follow.

Maybe the reason she thought he was full of shit when he kissed her in Whitestone was because he and Gilmore seemed involved like this. It was possible she had told the truth in disbelieving him because they had just escaped death, but at that moment, when it happened, she was all he wanted— wanted her to know how much she meant to him before it was too late. So he was propelled by danger. It didn’t change how he felt.

The more he brooded, the heavier his thoughts became.

He distantly heard something about getting Keyleth outside, then, “Vax. Vax, hold her hair back.”

“We should pick her up and carry her around the bar.”

“Help her out.” Vex pushed his shoulder, trying to inspire him to movement, but he didn’t budge.

“I need to stay here.”

“Come on, Keyleth!” Grog hollered, and Vex gave him a hard look before getting up. “I’ll go help her out.” She left him standing out as a number of his friends hauled Keyleth out the front door.

And, there was Gilmore. He finished off his drink, and looked to the remaining three: Pike, Scanlan, and Vax. “It’s good to see friends.”

“You too, Gil.” Scanlan seemed unimpressed by the Keyleth situation, but it was only fair; he hadn’t wanted to stay out anyway.

Gilmore stood. “Well—”

“You aren’t going, are you?”

He turned toward Vax. “It’s getting very late. I’ve only been back a few days and I have a lot of business to attend to in the morning.”

“I’m sure you do.” He wrestled with himself a moment. Gilmore was giving him an out. A reason to stave off the inevitable, because it hurt. Because, in truth, he didn’t want to. “Could I borrow your ear for a few minutes?” 

“Certainly. It would be my absolute pleasure.”

Scanlan made to get up. “You want some privacy?”

“In private,” Vax agreed.

“Oh.” As lighthearted as always, if not a bit confused; “Far be me to stand in the way of a private conversation.”

Vax didn’t look back as he followed Gilmore to a table in the corner of the room, the furthest from the door that he could manage. Adrenaline overcame him, but it wasn’t the type of adrenaline he felt when exacting a killing blow. No, this was the type of adrenaline that used to shake his hands while disarming a trap or picking a lock. It was the adrenaline of learning a dance and still getting the moves wrong. It was making a choice, when the choice is unfair to make. It felt like a thousand elven soldiers outside his father’s palace, marching in their drill lines. The ground seemed to tremble beneath him.

“Yes, Vax’ildan, darling?” Gilmore questioned once Vax was seated opposite him.

“We have known each other a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“Long time, yeah? And, um, I have a lot of love for you. You are an amazing man.” Vax could hardly stop himself as the words tumbled from his floundering mind.

Gilmore flashed him a smirk. “I’m not disagreeing with you there.”

“That is part of your charm,” he stated firmly, returning the smile. But he was far from confident. “I don’t even know what I’m saying, just, uh— I just feel I need to be honest with you.” Vax stopped again, to collect his thoughts, and watched as Gilmore gave a hesitant nod with an expression that read, essentially, ‘that’s fair.’

“There’s no question you and I have danced around each other for the past few years, and… I have been curious.”

His meandering must have gotten to Gilmore in some way, because he cut in, giving a brief and soft chortle, “Well. Curiosity is the spark of arcane pursuits and knowledge.” Another winning smile brightened the room around him, but Vax was anchored to the table with apprehension. His decision weighed him down— Endowed his world with a cold uncertainty. But if Gilmore perceived that, his next quip was to lift Vax in the way only he could. He held Vax’s gaze. “Among many other things.”

Any other situation, it would have worked. Any time but this present moment, right now, because all he could think about was how he had been irresponsible and how it would hurt one of his best friends: deeply, and in a place of vulnerability. He was silent, willing himself into continuing.

“I’ve come close many times to going further than I have.” He closed his eyes a moment. “You are a charming man.” This suspense had gone on too long. He’d already started the conversation. Gilmore was expecting something, and seemingly it was the exact opposite of what Vax was delivering. It was as he feared, but it took much coercion from himself to draw out the conclusion which at this point was unavoidable, but still poignantly bitter. Again he drew himself out of his head and met Gilmore’s eyes just briefly before lowering his gaze again. The concern on Shaun’s face was heartbreaking. “But I respect you very much,” he continued. “And I need to tell you—” His resolution faltered again, like a foal learning to walk. “That I can’t do the dance anymore.” Vax looked back up, craving exoneration from his guilt, and back down again when he found none. “I am— in love— with someone I— don’t—think—loves—me, but all the same, it wouldn’t be fair to you to think that… we might dally, and I don’t want to be a liar,” his posture straightened. The hard part out of the way, some of his boldness returned. “So I won’t be.”

Gilmore’s eyes fell shut for a moment, undoubtedly trying to endure the regrettable truth. He was silent for what seemed like an impossible amount of time, but really only spanned about five seconds. The bitter smile of accepted rejection crept across his mouth in a way so unlike glorious Gilmore that Vax almost lapsed in his firmness. “Well. I certainly appreciate your honesty.” His smile brightened only infinitesimally but there was still too much a sadness to his eyes to think it was so easily brushed off. “And… Well, I would be lying if I didn’t say I was a little disappointed, but at the same time, the heart wants what the heart wants. And uh, well, I’ve enjoyed our flirtation. Perhaps our paths aren’t meant to be quite so entwined.” He shrugged. “Such is the flow of fate, my friend.” A deliberate sigh marked his reorientation, and as such, his playfulness returned. To Vax, it felt hollow. “I wish you luck. The path of an uncertain heart is never an easy one. And should you ever need an ear to bend or a shoulder to cry on, well, you know where I am. And if I’m not there, you know how to get a hold of me.”

Without thinking, without stopping to process or scrutinize, Vax reached across the table, holding the back of Gilmore’s head with the palm of his hand, feeling a warmth that their little scene had been missing.

“You are a beautiful arcane bastard,” he mused. Something unequivocal possessed him. He wasn’t normally one for grand gestures— though he could be a bit dramatic at times— but the lingering scent of incense from Gilmore’s robes came to him as he leaned in, grieved but adamant, and pressed his mouth to Shaun’s. In the moment, a wonder crossed his mind of whether it was unfair of him to do this to the man he had just subtly dispossessed of the relationship they could have had, but Vax was steadfast. If his friends were looking, fine. The only person that mattered to him was Gilmore.

Then just as swiftly as had it begun, so it ended. And Vax patted Gilmore on the shoulder, his hand lingering a second.

“Thank you.”

Gilmore only had time to look awed for an instant, before he blinked it away and put his grin back on. “Now you’re just being a tease.”

Thankfully, his quip made Vax smile. He stood, the awkwardness mostly past. “Goodnight to you, Vax’ildan.”

“Goodnight, Gil.”

Vax watched as his snuffed flame drifted out into the night.


End file.
